A Tale of Two Adversaries
by Winter Skye
Summary: A New Year's Revolution: A fiendish plan has been hatched, but can the hatcher and the hatchee survive the hatchet wielder? [Winner of WA September Challenge]


Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own words. 

Each chapter is a complete episode in the overall story arc. 

With obligatory apologies to Clement C. Moore, Charles Dickens, and The American Constitution.

* * *

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New Year's Revolution**

T'was the nightmare after Christmas  
when all through the cemetery,  
not a creature was stirring  
not even a naked mole rat.  


It was the brightest of nights; it was the darkest of nights. It was the age of giving; it was the age of taking. It was the epoch of gluttony; it was the epoch of the Atkins Diet. It was the season of high crimes; it was the season of low misdemeanors. It was the summer of reckoning; it was the fall from grace. Everything before had been taken away and locked up; everything to come was given extra security guards. It was the coldest night of the winter so far, and definitely a time to be curled in front of a roaring fire. In short, the present-giving period was ended, and it was not the time to be out beneath a full moon on an otherwise dark and foreboding night. 

Rufus did not so much stir as shiver. Middleton was a blaze of lights and decorations. The factory still burned where Shego's personal jet had made its forced landing, the occasional firework still whizzed and fizzed and exploded in glorious technicolor over the town, and the air was as chill as the frosty stares exchanged between the super hero and the sinister sidekick. 

A low, cold, mist wreathed its way between the tombstones, Doctor Drakken's pale figure, and Ron Stoppable's unconscious body. Even in the warmth of his bright red Santa pants and his bright red Santa hat with its white fur trim, and even with his bulging bright red Santa sack with one last naco, Rufus sat uneasily on Ron's shoulder. 

A wisp of dark cloud slid across the face of the moon. The trees moaned and groaned under the weight of the snow. A distant gate creaked on its rusty hinges and clattered against its broken post. The two rivals stood opposite each other poised to continue their fight, but neither making the first move. If only an old owl had not hooted overhead, Rufus would have seen... but, safe inside Ron's coat, with a naco for company, even he was unaware. 

...oooOOOooo...

Ron woke on Kim's bed. His eyes opened to see the unfamiliar ceiling, and for a brief moment he fought the urge to panic. The walls he recognized, and the pennant, even the telescope, so therefore the bed he was lying on was obviously... 

Ron panicked. The last thing he remembered was reading an inscription before he lost consciousness. Before that, it was juggling the bag of nacos, trying not to get them scorched. Before that... Ron's entire life for that day flashed before his eyes: KP running and jumping; nacos; Shego calling him a...; nacos; Wade, KP, Rufus eating...; not to trust Rufus with his nacos; Shego's plane crashing...; and at no time did he lose his... 

With a sigh of relief, Ron eased himself up: at least he hadn't lost his pants. Still, he had to look, and squeaked with alarm at the sight of Rufus sitting grinning and chuckling in his lap. 

"So not funny," Ron winced at his voice booming inside his pain-filled head. And when his gaze wandered beyond Rufus, the pain only intensified. "Tell me, no," he whispered. 

"Uh-uh." Rufus shook his head, not at all concerned by his nakedness. 

"Oh, how it comes to this," Ron said dramatically and to no one in particular since they were otherwise alone. "Half-naked in Kim's bedroom with a naked mole rat in my lap, and I can't remember a thing that happened!" His eyes went wide as his brain skipped a beat. "Nothing happened, right?" 

Rufus shook his head. "Uh-uh." 

Ron looked down at his little buddy. "Ah... Um..." he paused as several unwanted images exposed themselves, flashing in the darker nether regions of his otherwise empty mind. "A good nothing, or a bad nothing?" 

"Uh-uh." Rufus shook his head, his eyes bright with mischief. 

A gentle knock did nothing to ease Ron's fears, but did cause Rufus to half jump out of his bare skin and scamper to his shoulder. 

"Not decent, KP," Ron called out with alarm, covering his bare legs which he knew Kim had seen on almost every occasion, and in much more embarrassing situations. "Ah..." His voice trailed off as a mass of hair floated into view. "Um..." White knuckles gripped the bedsheets as one eye followed Rufus trying to burrow out of sight as the other watched in horror at the darker than he remembered, taller then he remembered, best friend since pre-school climbed the stairs into the room. 

"My..." Ron stuttered, "What big hair you have." 

"All the better to fluster you with," she answered. 

"And what long legs you have," Ron said, desperate to think of a plan to escape. 

"All the better to chase you with," she laughed. 

"And what big..." Ron stopped as, just for once, his brain beat his mouth to the end of the sentence. "Ah..." Ron laughed as the older-looking, larger-looking, best friend he'd known, like, since forever sat beside him, deep concern furrowing the brow above her narrow green eyes. "This is so wrong," he muttered, pushing himself back into the pillows, so afraid of the slim, pale green hand reaching for his forehead. 

"Oh, Ron," not-Kim smiled, "It was only another concussion. No harm done." Her touch so gentle it wasn't natural, not-Kim soothed his head, her soft finger-tips touching his cheek. "But since we've got school tomorrow, it's best if you stay here tonight." 

At the mention of the s-word, Ron's alertness came crashing back to what passed for his reality. "Tomorrow? But... but... it's weeks away." 

Not-Kim shook her head. "You still don't remember?" she asked. "You and Drakken ran into each other as you, um, fought in the cemetery, and you hit your head. I've sat with you every moment since." Not-Kim paused to brush his hair, to help calm him again. "But don't worry," Ron closed his eyes in fear as not-Kim leaned closer and kissed his forehead. "Mom says it's all healed now, and you'll feel much better in the morning." 

For a moment Ron relaxed as not-Kim's weight shifted on the bed. But only for a moment. Two hands gently but firmly removed his grip on the sheets, and held them. "I'll stay with you," not-Kim said, her warmth adding to his discomfort as she curled up beside him. "Just in case the nightmares return." 

Not for the last time, Ron wished he could just faint dead away. 

...oooOOOooo...

Not-Kim had remained awake all night. Even her clumsy sidekick, she had to admit, did have his moments. She'd watched him, waited for him, listened to him – oh, how she'd suffered – she'd even felt something stir deep inside which she couldn't explain, but was mostly likely gas. At least, she hoped that was all it was. 

There was a power to his presence that, at first, had weakened her. But, as she'd dressed, somehow she'd drawn comfort from him — which was more than she could hope to get from the clothes she now wore. He'd looked at her – really looked at her – just once. Now he just babbled. 

She wasn't even angry or frustrated any more. He talked, she walked, and the apprehension of going back to school disappeared with the "Black Is The New Red!" school sign. She was colder and more perky than she would have liked, but she looked forward to meeting her classmates, putting down Bonnie with a smart retort, and – she looked down at her legs – who knows, she might even start a new trend with her pants stopping at her knees. 

Going back to school was a new beginning. 

Seeing the gym lifted her spirits; approaching her locker filled her with an anticipation she'd forgotten; and when Monique called out "Hey girl, what's with the NL" and didn't bat an eyelid, school felt like she was finally home. 

"NL?" She had to ask, it was practically required of her. 

"The New Look," Monique sighed. Fashion was the only passion she ever saw, and any change in fashion might change her luck with the... 

"Oh, that." Not-Kim had always wondered at the purpose of a top that left so little to the imagination, and a belt which did nothing other than resemble a hula-hoop, "All part of growing up, I guess." 

Monique thought for a few moments, then shot Ron a sideways glance. "Oh, Seniors!" she exclaimed. "You go, girl." 

"Yeah, those, too." Ron hadn't seemed – or wanted – to notice, but there was just the slightest sense of betrayal at the thought. And she had one last hurdle left to jump. 

She opened her locker to see Wade smiling back at her. For a split second his fingers paused in their dance over the keyboard in front of him. For a few more seconds he tapped away, glancing back and forth, and then he paused, waiting. 

Not-Kim took a deep breath before uttering the third-to-last thing she ever expected to hear herself say: "Hey, Wade. What's the sitch?" 

Wade looked back at her, glanced at his computer, glanced at Ron, at Rufus, at his computer, and finally back at not-Kim. "All quiet," he answered. "So far. Senor Senior Senior is looking for some henchmen to get Junior out of jail after Junior failed to get away when Drakken tricked him into taking his place." Wade waited, but not-Kim didn't show any untoward sign at the mention of Shego's employer, so he continued... "Drakken's disappeared off the radar." He waited again, but still got nothing. "But it can't be long before Drakken gets up to something." 

"Well, beep me if you get anything," not-Kim closed her locker with a please and thank you to Wade, making a mental note to get a more flattering mug-shot. Remarkably, everything had gone according to plan. Of course, the plan hadn't been Drakken's, so there was every chance that it might succeed. 

Everyone had, after a first glance, accepted her. They'd all known she wasn't Kim, but she was where Kim would be, wearing what Kim would wear, acting as Kim would act, doing what Kim would do, so therefore, and to stop their brains from exploding, she must be Kim. It wasn't logical, but it was much safer. 

With huge satisfaction, she turned to Rufus and smiled at the terrified rodent, before planting a kiss on Ron's cheek. She was so happy for a change that she wasn't even aware that she'd just done the fiftieth to tenth things on her list of things she would rather die first than actually do. And with a skip – a real skip – in her step she grabbed Ron's collar, and dragged him off to class with her. 

Their nightmare, her dream, had become a reality which opened up so many possibilities, she was bursting with enthusiasm. Ron still talked and talked and talked, but she'd learned to recognize his speech patterns, the way he repeated himself, she'd even stopped mocking Rufus every time Ron said "Booyah." 

School was a breeze, the mystery meat was less disgusting than a lot of things she'd seen in prison – and occasionally even on a plate – and as for cheer squad... 

Bonnie glared. Contempt didn't begin to describe the hatred and loathing in the icy stare. There was so much hurt and pain and anger, not-Kim almost felt sorry for her. Almost. Maybe. Well, not at all, really, and that surprised and delighted not-Kim beyond her expectations. The tension was so intense that Ron stopped talking and Rufus came out of hiding. 

Where the two had been almost identical in stature, now not-Kim could look down on her rival. Bonnie wouldn't dare look up, and would not look down, and the last thing Bonnie's wide, round eyes wanted to see was the way not-Kim filled her point of view. 

An unspoken challenge charged the air between them: a dare with which Shego had so often taunted Kim; a dare that Kim had always won. But she knew Bonnie's courage was hopelessly misplaced. Now was not the time, this was not the place, but there was indeed potential. 

As much as she wanted to show Bonnie that she was every bit the athlete, every inch as good, each foot as perfect, she could not bring herself to humiliate her. Not today. Not herself, anyway. She glanced at Ron. His eyes spoke volumes. His lips whispered them. "Oh, so not the drama," she told herself. 

With a skip and a jump, she went through a new routine that was just as impossible as anything she could imagine herself not doing, leaping so high into a splits that was so low even Rufus crossed his eyes and wiped away a tear. With ease, she raised herself into a handstand right in front of Bonnie's face. With natural grace, she turned and tumbled a cartwheel around a stray football and Bonnie's seething body. With a sweeping bow that left Bonnie on the verge of hysteria, she stopped in front of her enraged rival. 

Not-Kim peered through her legs and leaned a bit more to look back and up. She had to smile to herself at the slight miscalculation. Bonnie stared slack-jawed at the pale blue presentation before her. Not-Kim waved her pompoms with a flourish, wishing she'd had the forethought to write "kiss me" in nice big letters where it would hurt the most. 

As luck went, she was having more than her fair share, and reveling in every ounce of it. The sudden interruption of her Kimmunicator beeping couldn't have been timed better. Ron tossed it to her with unerring accuracy, bouncing it off Bonnie en route, so that not-Kim could catch it without moving a muscle. 

"Hey, Wade. What up?" 

Wade didn't blink. Not straight away. First, he made sure he was recording. Second, he captured a few stills just in case. If he wasn't so ethical, he knew he could hold the world to ransom... one pixel at a time. 

"It's Drakken, Kim," Wade blinked, watching not-Kim straighten. "He's created a doomsday machine, and he's threatening to revolutionize the world." 

...oooOOOooo...

"Shego!" Doctor Drakken's shout echoed throughout the lair. "Where are you? Why aren't you where I want you when I need you?" 

Not-Shego lounged in the big, soft leather chair, idly flicking through the pages of _Villain_ magazine, making mental notes. Irritated by her tireless lack of enthusiasm, Drakken spun the chair around, ending her game of hide and wait for him to seek. Not-Shego glared up at him. "I'm right here next to you," she stated. "Where else would I be?" 

"Oh, no." Drakken whispered, his heart sinking. He'd just got out of jail – again – not even knowing how he'd got there in the first place, only to be confronted by... 

His gaze fell from the bright red hair, fled past the bright green eyes and the knowing grin to the green and black jumpsuit. Not-Shego tossed the magazine aside and folded her arms across her small, pert chest in defiance. Her eyes narrowed menacingly as Drakken's deliberately followed the curves of her body. Not-Shego crossed her not as long, but perfectly slender legs almost to the point of no safe return. 

"You... think you're all... that... but..." Drakken stopped, aware that something wasn't right. "You're... on my side?" There was a small quiver of hope in his voice. 

"Aren't I always?" Not-Shego smiled with an innocence that radiated evil. "Okay, don't answer that. But when have I ever let you down?" She slid a sharp claw slowly across the scar below Drakken's left eye. "Okay, don't answer that one, either." She held his gaze with a determination that could puncture cold steel and prodded his cheek. "But you get the point?" 

"Oh, Shego, you do like to tease." He took a slow step back, aware of his sidekick's quick temper. "But you have work to do, and I have a fiendish plan to execute." With all the imperiousness he could muster, he turned on his heels. "Come with me Shego, I have a new invention, and together you and I – but mostly I – shall rule the world!" 

Not-Shego rose from her chair to find a spark of excitement sending a disturbing shiver of anticipation down her spine. Either that, or the green and black jumpsuit had a disconcerting static problem. The glossy magazine had helped her retain her focus, but now the moment she'd been waiting for was drawing closer, she found a new, sharper edge imposing itself on her. The lair, dark and disturbing, added a hypnotic thrill to the complex set of new and tantalizing thoughts seducing her mind. 

Her thoughts quickened to the untapped potential of her mind; her pace slowed to accommodate the raw power of her body; her fingers twitched, eager to hold the vast array of weapons lining the walls of the lair; her heart pounded in anticipation of using the devices hidden out of sight. 

No longer were her desires limited by the money she didn't have in her pocket. She followed Drakken, her gaze fixed on the target not painted on his back. Her obsession to possess more than she needed could now be satisfied with a well-placed knife. She knew that he was every bit as incapable as the machines he invented, but that the right now was not quite the right time. 

The quartered green and black did more than cover her body. The green matched the callow envy in her eyes, the black marked her soul. She didn't walk with a conceit or a swagger, instead she marched with an ease borne of impudence. Below the surface her new, stronger self-belief lifted her above the ordinary person she once thought she was. 

No more than five yards from where she'd sat, Drakken came to a halt before his latest toy, Supreme in her new-found self-confidence, so certain of her subtle stealth, she settled beside him so silent she half-scared the living daylights out of him. 

Drakken yelped at his sidekick's straight face. "Shego!" His composure may have fled, but his never ending belief in his genius restored his confidence, "Shego, let me show you the greatest invention since, since..." Drakken searched his memory for the greatest thing he'd ever invented, then for the greatest thing he'd ever stolen. This time, he would not let Shego have bragging rights, and not just because of her sinister appearance... 

"It's a wheel." not-Shego interrupted. 

"It's more than a wheel," Drakken squawked. "It's a Gyroscopic, Atomic, Ultra Super-Magnetic, Ah, Gyroscope." 

"So, it's a big wheel," not-Shego smirked. "Big deal." 

"You say that now, Shego, but you wait..." 

"The wagons are circling even as you speak." 

"Shego..." 

"The merry-go-round is going round laughing its merry head off." 

"I'm warning you..." 

"You are?" Not-Shego stood straighter, flexed her claws, and fixed her gaze on her boss. "What exactly does it do, then?" She grinned. "Apart from put you in a spin?" 

Drakken regarded his overly sarcastic sidekick. Always in the past he'd explained almost everything to Shego, and then when he was just about to unleash his latest weapon, _she_ would turn up and he'd have to explain it all over again, and by the time he had, usually it was too late. But not this time. Whatever cruel fate had befallen Shego, and whatever infernal game Kim Possible was playing with him, this time his plan would not fail. This time, he would succeed. This time, he would rule the world, this time... 

Not-Shego coughed impatiently. 

"Oh, you think you're all that..." Drakken stopped, looked at his watch and tapped it a couple of times. "Is it me?" he asked, "Or is my timing really off today?" 

"Ah, the wheel?" not-Shego prompted. 

"Oh, that, yes." Drakken cleared his throat noisily. "It's the greatest invention since..." Drakken paused for dramatic effect, "the wheel!" he announced with a flourish that even he realized wasn't very dramatic at all. "So great," he continued, his voice rising in failing hope of a powerful climax, "that it will revolutionize the world!" Bursting with pride, he waited; cautiously, he glanced at Shego. "In a bad way, of course." 

Slowly, very slowly, in a manner that took the irony out of sardonically and only left sadly remaining, not-Shego applauded the genius villain. 

"Shego, after all that I've done for you, I'm hurt," he complained as sincerely as he could. "This machine is a marvel. It's a masterpiece. I shall rule the world, and with you at my side, together we shall..." 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." She didn't have to regard Doctor Drakken with disdain or contempt — but it sure did help. 

...oooOOOooo...

"A what?" Not-Kim watched the schematic revolve on the screen of her Kimmunicator as Ron, Rufus, and Monique gathered round to peer over her shoulder. 

"A GAUSMAG," Monique said, ever the queen of acronyms. "A Gyroscopic Atomic Ultra Super-Magnetic, Ah, Gyroscope," she explained, shaking her head at Kim's lack of familiarity with the alphabet. "Get with the game, girl." 

"Okay, okay. Enough with the all the circular references, but it still looks like a wheel. Have you pinned down his location?" not-Kim asked Wade. 

"He's in his secret lair in Seattle." 

"Seattle? I hate Seattle," not-Kim complained. "It's always raining and I always get..." 

"Cold," Bonnie smirked. "And wet." 

"Booyah!" Ron and Rufus exchanged knowing looks. "And high five!" 

"So not impressed, you guys." Not-Kim clicked off her Kimmunicator in a fit of pique, and so angry at Bonnie, that she forgot to thank Wade. "Later, Bon-bon," she mocked, before turning her sharpest stare on Ron and Rufus. "You two coming with?" At least Rufus had the decency to look contrite but, as not-Kim marched off, Ron's thoughts were totally elsewhere. 

"How we getting to Seattle?" he asked, running to catch up, and hoping just this once for a comfortable ride. 

"Oh, you know." But this time not-Kim didn't even have to call up an old friend. She waited for the door to the gym to close so that no one would see, took Ron's hand, clicked her heels, and with the magic of Wade's reverse-engineered technology... 

"Hey, whadaya know?" Ron grinned. "I guess where not in Kansas any more, Rufus." He craned his neck to look at the top of the Space Needle. "Darn, but that's a long way down." 

Not-Kim blinked. "You mean up?" 

Rufus shook his head. "Uh-uh." 

"If experience has taught me nothing, KP, it's that where there's a climbing up, there's usually a falling down." 

Not-Kim consulted her Kimmunicator. "Well, this time it looks like you can keep your pants on." She showed Ron the glowing red dot on the map. "According to Wade, the lair is beneath the tower, and there should be a secret entrance right about..." not-Kim looked around, confused by the lack of the obvious sign indicating a secret door. 

"Ah, Wade... Where's the entrance?" Not-Kim pointed her Kimmunicator in the direction of the tower so Wade could see. 

Wade blinked, his fingers tapped on his keyboard, then he frowned in surprise. "Sorry, Kim, the search engine gave me an out-of-date map again. They moved the tower back in the eighties. I'll update your position." 

"Please and thank you." not-Kim smiled cheerfully. 

"_They moved the tower_?" Ron stared at the million-ton structure. 

Not-Kim stared at her best friend in dismay. "Actually, I think they just moved the map." But before Ron could cover his mistake with a joke, the ground trembled and gave way leaving empty air and, as they discovered only too painfully, a dark, winding, twisting, metal chute beneath their feet. 

For an eternity – at least to Ron – they bumped and bounced, twisting and turning, sliding and falling, until the air threatened to turn as black and blue as the bruises that would cover Ron's body, until all they – well, actually, only Ron – could remember was the darkness itself, until... 

A hundred yards beneath the Space Needle, Doctor Drakken tapped his foot impatiently while not-Shego looked on unpleasantly. 

Until, with a final thud and a hapless squawk, they fell into a daunting black cage which instantly slammed shut. 

"Well, well, well." Doctor Drakken gloated, "if it isn't Kim Possible and her lack-wit, um, wotsisname." 

Physically bruised and emotionally hurt, Ron raised his hand, "I'm Ron... Ron Stoppable..." 

"Are you? Really?" Doctor Drakken laughed. "I don't think so." Dismissing him, Drakken turned his attention to the subtly different Kim Possible. 

"I should apologise for the bumpy ride," Drakken grinned at his nemesis, ignoring wotsisname. "But I'm evil, and so I won't. At least it wasn't I who moved the tower," he glared accusingly at Shego, who shook her head in disbelief. 

"Kim Possible, you think you're all that, but..." Drakken paused as his brain caught up with the wrong moment: he was free; it was Kim in the cage. Not trusting his own eyes, he took his cell phone from his pocket, dialed POPCORN, tapped his watch again, shook his head, and continued anyway, "But I do like what you've done with your hair," he finished in self-denial of her confusing appearance. 

"Uh-uh." Rufus shook his head in consternation. 

"But you are just in time to witness the end of the world as you know it!" With Kim Possible secure, and the world so nearly in his grasp, he turned to his less familiar and slightly less trusting sinister sidekick. "Shego," he ordered, "prepare the GAUSMAG!" 

"But, Doctor D, you haven't told me how it works," not-Shego protested. all too aware of what would happen next. 

"I haven't? Oh, how careless of me." The spotlight now clearly on him in his moment of great expectation, Doctor Drakken finally announced his glorious new invention to the world: 

"My brilliant Gyroscopic Atomic Ultra Super-Magnetic, Ah, Gyroscope will revolutionize the world! The great wheel..." 

"Didn't I say it was a wheel?" the two protagonists whispered in unison. 

"Oh, please!" Drakken shushed both of them. "The great spinning spindle – HAH! – will spin faster and faster and faster until it turns not just the core of the earth, not just the poles of the planet, but the very planet itself down-side up and up-side down! AHA AHAHA AHAHAHAHAHA!!!" 

"And," not-Shego just knew that she just had to ask, "just where will we be when all this happens?" 

"Why, safe in the spinning restaurant above us, of course. It shouldn't take more than forty-five minutes, and I've already made reservations." Drakken licked his lips in anticipation of more than a fine meal. "All you have to do is press the red button." Drakken pointed at the big red button on the GAUSMAG's control panel. 

"_Not the red button_," Ron shouted, always the master of diversion. "Anything but the _red button_," he carried on, his fists beating the air with panic and fear. Confronted by Ron's display of outrageous overacting, Drakken and Shego blinked at him in amazement. Yet, in those few precious seconds, not-Kim burned the lock with the laser built into her watch, and Rufus slipped unnoticed through the bars of the cage. 

"Not this time, Kim Possible!" Drakken shouted. "Shego! Get them!" 

While Ron struggled to climb out of the cage, not-Kim vaulted high into the air, fired the grappling hook from her hair-dryer, and swung half way around the lair to land in a low splits before not-Shego, mere yards from the controls. 

The champions of Justice and Evil faced each other, the transposition complete, the moment of truth upon them, the prize greater than those looking on could comprehend. 

Shego crouched relaxed and alert, one hand delicately poised on her hip, the other pointing, sinister and menacing, inviting Kim to bring it on. One smiled defiantly, the other grinned malevolently. Both their hearts pounded. 

For less than a heartbeat, their eyes met. For less than a heartbeat, they saw that more than their own destinies depended on the outcome. For less than a heartbeat, Kim Possible and Shego listened to the tiny voices of their consciences. For less than a heartbeat, there was complete and utter silence. 

And then, when their hearts began beating again, complete and utter mayhem broke loose. 

Punching and missing, the thrill of combat caught hold of them. Swinging and leaping, the elation of fighting lifted them. Kicking and mocking, their altered personae consumed them. Sneaking and sneaking some more, Rufus gnawed his way through the locks and chains holding the very sharp weapons to the wall of the lair. Muttering and losing his pants, Ron fell out of the cage. 

The intensity of their showdown sent devastating shock waves surging through the concrete. It sent Kim and Shego tumbling in a desperate fight for superiority. It sent Doctor Drakken running for the cover of his escape tunnel. It sent Ron hopping on one leg as he struggled to get back into his pants. 

But there could only be one outcome. 

Rufus had an ax to grind and a hatchet to bury. With a creak and a groan, loosed from the wall, the two weapons swung on their chains in great swooshing arcs of inevitability toward Kim and Shego, missing them by the breadth of a hair, to pin the evil Doctor Drakken immovably to his deadly device. 

Kim and Shego fought like creatures possessed. No trick was too small, no dodge too devious, no underhanded claw too cunning, until all that stood between them was the magnificent wheel of death itself, circles within circles, its glistening burnished chrome reflecting the heat of their passion. 

And in those reflections, they smiled at each other, and they grinned at themselves. 

Slowly, new-Kim removed her lipstick from her pocket. "No harm in looking good," she smiled at new-Shego as she unscrewed the cap. 

"So, it comes to this," new-Shego frowned at new-Kim's vanity. 

They'd both fought well, they both breathed heavily, just as they'd both been completely transformed, they both looked perfect, except... 

Kim turned the lipstick and aimed it at Shego. A great splat of restricting plastic shot from the end of the lipstick, constricting Shego to the spokes of the GAUSMAG beside Drakken. 

Just in time, Ron fastened his belt. It was all over. 

"Oh, you think you're all that..." Drakken stared into the narrow green eyes beneath the dark black eyebrows. "But..." his gaze fell to the thin lips and the crooked smile on the beautiful pale green face he knew and, well, didn't love, but that wasn't the point. More than ever, he knew that he would never succeed with or without Kim Possible's help, "But, but... I want my Shego back!!!" Drakken cried, defeated. 

The old Shego tapped him once, relishing the sight of his unconscious yet not-dead body falling limp to the floor. The real Kim Possible, trapped in the wheel machine, glared hatefully at her, caught by her own pink lipstick. She'd finally beaten the young Kim Possible fair and square, she'd finally won, she was victorious! 

"Nah." Ron shook his head at her smug expression, unwise to the moment. "I'd say you were lucky." 

"Uh-uh." Bewildered at how he'd missed, Rufus shook his head. 

"Hey!" Ron retrieved the Kimmunicator, the elation slipping from old-Shego's weary grasp with his tireless bravado. "There's a Bueno Nacho less than a block from here!" Already he could hear the wailing police sirens, already he could taste the call of the cheese. "Our work is done: Booyah! It's naco time." 

Old-Shego watched them slope away in silence. 

Victory had been hers. She'd defeated Drakken, she'd avoided the naked mole rat's hatchet, she'd survived Ron and even high school. She'd out-fought Kim Possible, and yet... 

...oooOOOooo...

Two lonely figures sat on the roof of the tower high above the city. No one would ever think to look for them there, if anyone would think to look there at all. Well, anyone except the crazy young girl with the pie-chart tattooed on the back of her neck. Anyway, she was completely insane, muttering to herself about the end of the world, about children with super-human powers and extraordinary abilities that no one would ever believe. Kim and Shego glanced at the other side of the roof, shaking their heads. 

"Well?" Shego asked. 

Kim shrugged. The green and black jumpsuit was as light as a feather in her hands. Worse, it had preyed on her mind all the while she wore it, all the while she saw herself wearing nothing at all. It revealed nothing, yet at the same time, it revealed everything. The gloomy green and sombre black had powers all of their own. She'd not so much stepped into the jumpsuit, as let it shape itself to her body. Inch by inch, her attitude had changed as the lack of subtlety filled her mind with a menace that was even sharper than the claws on each glove. Kim knew that it was the person inside the costume who mattered. At least, that was what she told herself. It was why they had swapped in the first place. 

"It almost controlled me. I looked wicked," Kim frowned at Shego's knowing grin. "I mean wicked in a bad way. I felt wicked, I wanted to be wicked. I couldn't sympathize with Drakken, I could only mock him." She tried to smile. "And green is so not my color." 

"But it suits you," Shego said. "You suit it. Your hair, your eyes, your skin. You shone like a beacon, you were a blaze of light, the contrast was spectacular. Admittedly, it did make you rather conspicuous, but still." 

"And being back at school?" Kim asked. "Being a cheerleader? Showing the truth of what you are to the world? What makes you so afraid? Why hide behind so much black, so much darkness? Even with your droll sense of humor, you're no harlequin." 

Shego twisted the hem of the tiny top between her fingers. Teen fashion was a thing of her past. Her weakness when Kim had sheltered her from Electronique had never left her. Being normal frightened her, and after, she'd hated that fear and herself so much she'd do anything to conquer it. Even if it meant living it; even if it meant going back to high school and cheerleading; even if – and she shuddered — even if it meant being kind to Ron. At least on Kim the crop-top covered – even if only slightly – more than her chest. "Once," she began cautiously, "I was like you. I had to return to what I was, if only to remember what made me change." She was still wearing Kim's clothes, and still struggling not to be completely honest and, worse, completely innocent. "Even the hollow victory was worth it," she admitted, clutching at the last remnant of her triumph. 

"Really?" Kim asked. "Evil isn't good or bad, it's only a made-up word. There's good and bad in both of us — we've always known that. The only difference is that I don't fight against evil, I fight for justice. In the end, justice will always win." 

The mutual, not so much respect, more a lack of disrespect they had for each other had changed both of them, and they both knew it. They fought on their own terms, but as long as there was a villain to take down, and the chance of escape to a sunny resort, that was enough. They both had so much to learn before the ultimate conflict, and until that time, they both needed to learn as much as they could. Even from each other. Especially from each other. It was all part of the game. 

Slowly, Shego pulled the small pink top over her head and shook out her hair. "Yeah, I finally win one," Shego nodded, disappointed. "And who noticed? Certainly not wotsisname; and Drakken won't remember." Quite deliberately she wriggled herself out of the tiny pink skirt. "And anyway, no one ever looks beyond the costume, to what lies beneath." "Well, no one but you, Princess." 

"Yeah, and about that," Kim said. "Y'know, you've got all those pet names for me, and yet you're just, well, you." 

"No, Pumpkin, that's not true." Liberated from the trappings of youth, Shego came alive with the glare shot her way, deflecting it with a smile that had always won Kim's compassion and finally, if not yet completely, her heart. 

Shego leaned closer, compelled by the shadows of her soul and the bright moonlight in Kim's eyes. Innocence lost to her, Shego rejoiced in the pleasures of guilt, brushing her lips gently against Kim's, delighting in her shiver, the narrowing of her eyes, the recoil from temptation. "No," Shego said with a laugh, I'll always be Evil." 

Yet, Kim relaxed in Shego's companionship. Life was about learning, and in Shego she had the best teacher. The lesson was often painful, and had never been easy, and it had been a long time coming to their own special understanding, but for the moment they were free of the threads that restricted them, that defined them, that bound them to be enemies. For the moment, they were neither hero nor villain, they could just be themselves. 

"So, back to assisting world domination?" Kim asked. 

"Back to school?" Shego retorted. 

"Same time next year?" 

Shego grinned. "I thought you'd never ask." 

...oooOOOooo...

On the other side of the roof, the strange young girl continued to mutter, but not to herself. 

Rufus listened intently. Not only his future, but that of the whole world depended on him. He knew that, one day soon, he would have to leave Ron and come back to learn, to grow, to give the world many more Rufuses, to fulfill his own destiny. 

Until then, until the nightmare was finally over, until he could finally forget that there ever was a nightmare, and until Kim and Shego would finally resume their struggle, he opened the Santa sack he'd become quite attached to, and at least for now, life was still a great big naco with extra cheese. 


End file.
